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hiddenreamers · 6 months ago

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Intros & Narrators - Lewis Hamilton

Synopsis: When insecurity clouds your mind again, Lewis is there to remind you that your self-doubt is an unreliable narrator.

WC: 622

As the cliché goes, “History repeats itself”.

Once again, you find yourself listening to the searing criticism of your own thoughts. The louder the voices scream at you to finally accept the embarrassment of your existence, the more you believe them. Perhaps you’re looking in the mirror for the first time in a long while; perhaps it’s your first time seeing how other people will always be bigger, bolder and braver than you could ever be. And what is there to do about such a fact except acceptance? You cannot wish yourself into being born someone else.

Your face feels hot from the tears. This pain in your chest… is it grief or relief at this epiphany? Tears blur your vision, making the world seem like a reflection in a dirty, broken mirror. It’s quite fitting actually - your world must be a broken mirror, cursing you with misfortune for seven lifetimes instead of seven years.

Maybe those of your kind do not deserve anything better.

His voice rips through the nagging in your brain; a snowdrop in February:

“What’s going on?”

A pleasantly warm hand, gentler than need be, wipes the tears running down your cheeks. The gesture is delicate, almost fearful. How naive of him to believe that tenderness befits you.

“Talk to me, please.”

But the answer is stuck in your throat. It comes out as a choked, desperate sob. Even with the most flowery language, people like him can never relate to seven lifetimes of misery. Could you make a soaring eagle understand that ants are stuck to the ground?

Seemingly, he doesn’t need your response. His arms engulf you in a tight hold; a fortress of solace. You can feel his warm breath against your neck. It comes and goes with inhales and exhales like the rolling waves of a calm sea.

And you let the tidal water wash over you.

Soon, the tears stop falling. Your hands don’t shake anymore. The painful truth of what you are still resounds in your head but it’s not as loud as before. Now, you can hear the world beyond it: the cars outside, the soft electrical hum of the fridge, the laboured breathing of a worried dog.

As words come back to you, Lewis is finally able to hear your answer to his question. Despite knowing what horrors you will tell him about, he still takes a walk with you through your mind. Not once does he interrupt you to share his opinion. He patiently listens to you, even though he’s heard every one of those stories before.

Then, a moment of silence. Lewis keeps staring at you but you avoid his gaze. You know that look in his eyes a little too well: a mixture of sadness, frustration and anger.

Soaring eagles could never understand that ants are stuck to the ground.

Those warm, gentle hands hold your face once more. He forces you to look at him, to truly see the man in front of you and how he’s bursting at the seams with adoration.

“That little voice in your head that’s beating you down?” he asks.”Don’t listen to it, ever.” Lewis’s tone is stern - it’s not a request but a demand. “It’s an unreliable narrator.”

For a moment, those ravenous, sinister thoughts try to fight this notion. Hard as they can gnaw at your spirit, they continue to grow silenced. Wouldn’t the soaring eagle have a bigger perspective than the ant? When your mind is quiet once more, you finally realise that the truth of what you are lies within this moment, in the comfortable, joyous life with your lover.

In life, as it is with stories, you should never lay your trust in a narrator.

Check out other fics in the Ampersand Themed Works

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throneofsmut · 1 year ago

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Bound In Flames - Part 5

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister-Reader || WC: 3.5k || Warnings: None

Summary: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

****

The estate sprawled across a rolling green land. You'd never seen anything like it; even your former home and the Archeron Manor couldn't compare. It was veiled in roses and ivy, with patios and balconies and staircases sprouting from its alabaster sides. The grounds were encased by woods, but stretched so far that you could barely see the distant line of the forest.

Your awe might have overpowered your confusion at the sight of Feyre looking at the place as if it was wholly empty and silent. Above the array of amethyst irises and pale snowdrops and butter-yellow daffodils swaying in the balmy breeze, the faint stench of metal ticked your nostrils. Quickly realizing that she couldn’t see what you saw. Feyre couldn’t see all the fairies that were stealing glances at both of you.

The faerie meandered on ahead, leaping nimbly up the grand marble staircase that led to the giant oak doors in one mighty, fluid movement. The doors swung open for him on silent hinges, and he prowled inside. You felt for your knives, finding the feel of them still beneath your clothes comforting.

Feyre’s horse came to a stop of her own accord at the foot of the stairs. The message was clear enough. The towering estate house seemed to be watching, waiting.

You glanced over your shoulder toward the still-open gates. If you were to bolt, it would have to be now.

South—all you had to do was go south, and you would eventually make it to the wall. If you didn't encounter anything before then. You could make it but you wouldn’t risk losing Feyre. She tugged on the reins, but the mare remained stationary—even as she dug her heels into her sides. She let out a low, sharp hiss. Her knees buckling as she hit the ground, blinking as if bits of light were flashing in her vision.

She grasped the saddle and winced as soreness and hunger racked her senses. Now. You had to go now. You made to move, grabbing her arm, but she looked like she was going to pass out.

Only a fool would run with no food, no strength.

You wouldn't get half a mile like this. Wouldn't get half a mile before he caught her and tore her to ribbons, as he'd promised. She took a long, shuddering breath. Food. You need to get her food and water, then run at the next opportune moment. It sounded like a solid plan.

When she was steady enough to walk, you let go of her and left the horse at the bottom of the stairs, taking the steps one at a time. Arms hovering around her, just in case she did pass out. Your breath tight in your chest, as you passed through the open doors and into the shadows of the house.

Inside, it was even more opulent. Black and white checkered marble shone at your feet, flowing to countless doors and a sweeping staircase. A long hall stretched ahead to the giant glass doors at the other end of the house, and through them you glimpsed a second garden, grander than the one out front. No sign of a dungeon—no shouts or pleas rising up from hidden chambers below. No, just the low growl from a nearby room, so deep that it rattled the vases overflowing with fat clusters of hydrangea atop the scattered hall tables. As if in response, an open set of polished wooden doors swung wider to your left. A command to follow.

Tensing as you entered the room. Making sure to keep Feyre behind you.

A long table—longer than any the Archeron’s had ever possessed at your family manor—filled most of the space. It was laden with food and wine—so much food, some of it wafting tendrils of steam, that made your mouth water. At least it was familiar, and not some strange faerie delicacy: chicken, bread, peas, fish, asparagus, lamb… it could have been a feast at any mortal manor. Another surprise. The beast padded to the oversized chair at the head of the table.

You lingered by the threshold, gazing at the food—all that hot, glorious—food that you knew Feyre wouldn’t want to eat. Even if she needed it. That was the first rule humans are taught as children, usually in songs or chants: If misfortune forced you to keep company with a faerie, you never drank their wine, never ate their food. Ever. Unless you wanted to wind up enslaved to them in mind and soul— unless you wanted to wind up dragged back to Prythian. Well, the second part had already happened, but she didn’t know most of what she was taught was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit.

The beast plopped into the chair, the wood groaning and in a flash of white light, turned into a golden-haired man.

You hoped your face remained an unreadable mask, blinking was the only reaction you’d show, as your worst nightmare became real. Continued to hope he didn’t know you or about you, even though you knew who he is—what he is—to you.

Feyre pushed herself against the paneled wall beside the door, you could hear her feeling for the molding of the threshold, trying to gauge the distance between her and escape. As she realized this beast was not a man, not a lesser faerie. He was one of the High Fae, one of their ruling nobility: beautiful, lethal, and merciless.

His nose, cheeks, and brows were covered by an exquisite golden mask embedded with emeralds shaped like whorls of leaves. Just like it was described in the stories you were told. It left only his eyes—looking the same as they had in his beast form, strong jaw, and mouth for you to see, and the latter tightened into a thin line.

"You two should eat something," he said. Unlike the elegance of his mask, the dark green tunic he wore was rather plain, accented only with a leather baldric across his broad chest. It was more for fighting than style, even though he bore no weapons you could detect. Not just one of the High Fae, but. . . a warrior, too. He filled a glass of wine from an exquisitely cut crystal decanter and drank deeply. As if he needed it.

"Who are you?" Feyre managed to say. His light golden hair was so similar to the color of his beast form's pelt. Those giant claws undoubtedly still lurked just below the surface of his skin. If the stories embedded in your memory were true.

"Sit," he said gruffly, waving a broad hand to encompass the table. "Eat."

You knew Feyre’s silence meant she was reciting the chants in her head, again and again. No doubt deciding it wasn’t worth it—easing her ravenous hunger was definitely not worth the risk of being enslaved to him in mind and soul. And you had never fought the urge to drag her to the table to eat and drink as much as you were now.

He let out a low growl, directed at Feyre. "Unless you'd rather faint?"

"It's not safe for humans," She managed to say. It took all your focus not to roll your eyes at her. But you couldn’t fault her, she didn’t know and you had never told her.

He huffed a laugh—more feral than anything. "The food is fine for you to eat, human." Those strange green eyes pinned her to the spot, as if he could detect every muscle in her body that was priming to bolt. And every muscle in yours was fighting to sit and eat for her sake or bolt with her. "Leave, if you want," he added with a flash of teeth. "I'm not your jailer. The gates are open—you can live anywhere in Prythian."

You could survive. Just needing to make it your family’s cottage—your real family’s cottage. And no doubt risk Feyre being eaten or tormented by a wretched faerie. But while every inch of this place was civilized and clean and beautiful, you had to get out, had to get back. That promise to your mother, cold and vain as she was, was all you had. You both made no move toward the food.

"Fine," he said, the word laced with a growl, and began serving himself.

You didn't have to face the consequences of refusing him another time, as someone strode past you, heading right for the head of the table.

"Well?” The stranger said, another High Fae: red-haired and finely dressed in a tunic of muted silver. He, too, wore a mask. He looked familiar but you couldn’t be sure. He sketched a bow to the seated male and then crossed his arms. Somehow, he hadn't spotted you where you were still pressed against the wall.

"Well, what?" Your captor cocked his head, the movement more animal than human.

"Is Andras dead, then?"

A nod from your captor—savior—whatever he was. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"How?" The stranger demanded, his knuckles white as he gripped his muscled arms.

"An ash arrow," said the other. His red-haired companion hissed. "The Treaty's summons led me to the mortals. I gave them safe haven."

"Two girls—two mortal girls actually killed Andras." Not a question so much as a venom-coated string of words. He glanced at the end of the table, where your empty chairs stood. "And the summons found the girls responsible." Not a question, a fact.

The golden-masked one gave a low, bitter laugh and pointed at you. "The Treaty's magic brought me right to their doorstep."

The stranger whirled with fluid grace. His mask was bronze and fashioned after a fox's features, concealing all but the lower half of his face—along with most of what looked like a wicked, slashing scar from his brow down to his jaw. It didn't hide the eye that was missing—or the carved golden orb that had replaced it and moved as though he could use it. It fixed on the both of you. On you.

Even from across the room, you could see his remaining russet eye widen. Something flashing in it, but as quick as it came it was gone.

He sniffed once, his lips curling a bit to reveal straight white teeth, and then he turned to the other faerie. "You're joking," he said quietly. "Those scrawny things brought down Andras with a single ash arrow?"

Bastard—an absolute bastard.

“And a dagger.” You added with a feral smirk and wicked gleam in your eye.

"And a dagger," the golden-haired one said tightly, repeating what you said, tracing the rim of his goblet with finger. A long, lethal claw slid out, scraping against the metal as you fought to keep your breathing steady. Especially as he added, "They didn't try to deny it."

The fox-masked faerie sank onto the edge of the table, the light catching in his long fire-red hair. “Well,” the red-haired one seethed, "now we’re stuck with the that, thanks to your useless mercy, and you've ruined—“

You stepped forward—only a step. Body moving on its own, you didn’t care being spoken about like but. . .Feyre. It was enough. Letting out a warning growl, sounding more animal than human, had them tensing. Even if they tried to hide it, you noticed.

You were noticing everything. As soon as you made it to the other side of the wall it was almost as if your senses were on overdrive. Like the fog had finally cleared.

"Did you enjoy killing my friend, human?" the red-haired one said. "Did you hesitate, or was the hatred in your heart riding you too hard to consider sparing him? It must have been so satisfying for a small mortal thing like you to take him down."

Scoffing, not bothering to hide the sharpness in your voice, “It doesn’t matter, whatever we say doesn’t matter, he’s gone.”

The golden-haired one said nothing, but his jaw tightened. As they studied you. You reached for your knives.

"Anyway," the fox-masked one continued, facing his companion again with a sneer. "Perhaps there's a way to— "

"Lucien," your captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to you. "My apologies, ladies." Another joke at your expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to Feyre with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

Then he turned to you, eyes narrowing, mouth opening and closing before opening again, “You. You’re different. Who are you?” He cocked his head—waiting for you to give him your name. But telling him anything about you and where you came from—

"Her name is Y/n," said the one in charge—the beast. He must have learned your name at the cottage or when Feyre said it on the trek here. Those striking green eyes met yours again and then flicked to Feyre. “And that’s her sister, Feyre.”

“Sister?” The red head questioned, disbelievingly.

You held his gaze not wanting to give him any trace of a doubt about who you really were. What you were.

Then the blonde faerie looked to the door. "Alis will take you to your rooms. You could both use a bath and fresh clothes."

Suddenly there was a firm hand at your elbow, and you whirled around. Forgetting that you had to continue to act as humanly as possible. A rotund brown-haired woman in a simple brass bird mask tugged on your arm and inclined her head toward the open door behind her. Her white apron was crisp above her homespun brown dress—a servant. She wasn’t high fae, her ears were pointed but she had tree-bark like skin.

You barely made it a few steps before Lucien growled, "That's the hand the Cauldron thought to deal us? They brought Andras down? We never should have sent him out there—none of them should have been out there. It was a fool's mission." His growl was more bitter than threatening. "Maybe we should just take a stand—maybe it's time to say enough. Dump the girls somewhere, kill them, I don't care—they’re nothing but a burden here. They'd sooner put a knife in your back than talk to you—or any of us."

You tried calming your breathing, not clench your fists, but—

"No," the other bit out. "Not until we know for certain that there is no other way will we make a move. And as for the girls, they stay. Unharmed. End of discussion. Their life in that hovel was hell enough.”Your cheeks heated, even while you loosened a tight breath, and you avoided looking at Alis as you felt her eyes slide to you. A hovel you suppose that’s what your cottage was when compared to this place.

"Then you've got your work cut out for you, old son," Lucien said. "Maybe they can even train with the others on the border."

A snarl of irritation resonated through the air. From the blonde.

And before realizing what you were doing you pulled out of Alis’s hold, walking right up to Lucien, pushing him against the wall. You heard a chair scrap back and Lucien lifted a hand—stopping him. Stopping the other high fae. Your left forearm braced against his throat as your right hand now gripped one of your ash daggers, pressing it against his ribs—angling it at his heart.

“Watch it.” Your voice was lethally soft as you whispered your confession, quiet enough for only him to hear you leaned in, “I didn’t want to kill him. I said a prayer for him in his final moments. I stayed with him until his last breath. Holding him, trying to comfort him and let him know he wasn’t alone. But if your High Lord. . . you or anyone tries to come after my sister I will kill you. All of you. I won’t even use this dagger or an ash arrow. . . I’ll rip you apart with my bare hands.”

When you leaned back, his face was pale. In that moment you let him take in the death promise in your eyes before giving him a wicked smirk. Heading back towards Alis and Feyre.

The shining, spotless halls swallowed you up before you could hear what the blonde was saying to him.

****

Alis led you both through halls of gold and silver until you came to a lavish bedroom on the second level. Alis led you into one and three other servants ushered Feyre into the one across the hall. “Alis?”

“Yes?”

“If they hurt her, I’ll-“

“She’s safe.” She promised.

You’ll admit you didn’t fight that hard when Alis and two other servants—also masked—bathed you, cut your hair, and then plucked you.

You took one look at the velvet turquoise dress Alis had placed on the bed and wrapped your white dressing gown tightly around you, sinking into a chair and asking for your old clothes to be returned. Alis refused, “Princess, why would you want to wear those rags again?”

You stiffened at the word, the title—Princess.

“Don’t be so shocked. I can see your mother in you, Princess.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied nonchalantly.

She stared at you, and when you held her stare telling her you hadn’t worn a dress in years, and wasn’t about to start now, she stormed out. Not when you wouldn’t be able to move freely in it, to fight in it. For Feyre and you if it came down to it.

Bundled in your robe, you sat for minute after minute, the chattering of small birds in the garden beyond the windows the only sounds.

The bedroom was larger than your entire cottage. Its walls were pale green, delicately sketched with patterns of gold, and the moldings were golden as well. You might have thought it tacky had the ivory furniture and rugs not complemented it so well. The gigantic bed was of a similar color scheme, and the curtains that hung from the towering headboard drifted in the faint breeze from the open windows. Your dressing gown was of the finest silk, edged with lace—simple and exquisite enough that you ran a finger along the lapels.

The door creaked, and Alis returned a bundle of clothing in her hands. She lifted your sodden shirt. "You want to wear this?" You stared at the holes in the sides and sleeves. "It fell apart the moment the laundresses put it in water." She held up a few scraps of brown. "Here's what's left of your pants. Will you wear the dress now?" she demanded. You scoffed, you knew you should get up, should agree, but you slumped farther into your seat. Alis stared you down for a moment before leaving again.

She returned with trousers and a tunic that fit you well, both of them rich with color. A bit fancy, but you didn't complain when you donned the white shirt, nor when you buttoned the deep purplish blue, almost black tunic and ran your hands over the scratchy, golden thread embroidered on the lapels. The tunic resembling night. You rolled your eyes at her, knowing she picked this tunic for its color specifically.

Alis herded you into a low-backed chair before the darkened fireplace, and you didn’t fight back as she ran a comb through your hair and began braiding it. "You’re hardly more than skin and bones," she said, her fingers luxurious against your scalp.

"Winter does that to poor mortals. " You said, fighting to keep the sharpness from your tone.

She huffed a laugh. "Princess, you forget yourself. You are neither poor nor mortal. What would your mother think, hmm? What would the late Princess Rhaenyra think? ”

Meeting her gaze through the mirror, making sure to speak low enough so only she could hear you, even if it was just the two of you. You spoke through clenched teeth, “I’m only going to say this once. I’m not who you think I am. The Princess you knew is dead, she died when her mother did eleven years ago. That princess lost everything when she lost her mother. So this is the last time I’m telling you this, I’m not “Princess Y/n”. I’m just Y/n.”

Alis gave a curt nod, something like sadness lacing her features. She remained quiet as she finished braiding your hair. But once she was done, she placed her hand on your shoulder and finally spoke. “Be careful. Keep your wits about you. Some folk are bound to be upset about Andras. Yet if you ask me, Andras was a good sentinel, but he knew what he would face when he crossed the wall—knew he'd likely find trouble. And the others understand the terms of the Treaty, too —even if they might resent your presence here, thanks to the mercy of our master. So keep your head down, and none of them will bother you. Though Lucien—he could do with someone snapping at him, which you obviously have courage for."

When she realized you weren’t going to say anything, she gently squeezed your shoulders and then moved to open the door to the hall.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12

Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle

*If you would like to be added to the taglist for this story or to my general taglist, please either reply to this post or send me a message.

#acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris fanfic #eris smut #eris x reader #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #bound in flames #eris vanserra x you #eris x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x y/n

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sannirio · 2 years ago

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I DO

wc: 611

fluff, no cw. if there is please let me know.

A/N: im so sorry for being gone for so long. work and my mental health has been just yikes but i promise ill be back too writing!

i hope you guys enjoy!

there will be a part 2 i just wanted to give yall sm to read in the meantime <3

everything was perfect, he thought. san was standing at the altar, nervously. today was your wedding day, finally it had arrived. there was a crowd of people all sitting in classic neat rows, the gorgeous french inspired château off in the distance, the stained glass just barely visible from where san stood. all 7 of his band mates were off to his left. hongjoong, mingi, seonghwa, yeosang, jongho, yunho and wooyoung were standing, arms behind their backs. matching black tuxedos had been supplied to them all, making the guys all look super composed which rarely happened. seonghwa’s small black sunglasses made him stand out but what could he do? san chuckled at the sight of those dumb glasses.

the aisle ahead of him was a bed of soft white marble, lined with stones and moss. those were to represent the mountains in which he was named after. nestled in between the rocks, like little elf lanterns sprouted tiny snowdrop flowers. he had chosen these specifically because not only was it your favorite flower, but they reminded him of his future partner. delicate, graceful, fragile, yet so elegant. the altar was just as extravagant. wisteria had been draped like a blanket over a thin steel frame, mixing with branches to conceal the industrial structure. poking out in a loosely scattered formation, korean roses dotted the structure giving symbolic colour to the basic toned lattice behind him. on either side of the altar were these gorgeous flower bushes that had hidden lights in them. the effect was almost ocean-like. as if there were glofish dancing around in the dark. making these bushes look like rain clouds, water drops were pouring out from different parts, almost creating flower fountains. the scenery was gorgeous. the sound of a violin tore san from his trance, it was time.

it was hard to see through the wight veil that curtained your face. the sweet pull of a violin flowing from the quartet graced your ears.

“wise men say… only fools rush in”

goeuns voice was ethereal. you were so happy your best friend said yes to singing at your wedding, she knew how much it meant to you. your first bridesmaid took her first step down the aisle. one after another your closest friends made their way to the altar, their grace and poise reminded you of how you visioned your happiest day to be. the soft tug on your arm pulled you out of your daydream. your father was now standing beside you, his arm linked with yours. he gave you a smile, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. he was very obviously trying to hold in his feelings, for at least the time being with little to no avail. your father was so proud of you. before the two of you started your walk down the aisle your eyes meet your mothers. she's in the front row, handkerchief in hand, the same look your father has adorned her face as well. she was dressed in lovely soft lilac accented hanbok, similar to san’s mom who wore green.

you took your first step, your father matching your stride. you could feel butterflies dancing around in your stomach. the last time you felt this nervous was when you had first met san. it was an amazing feeling, like young love all over again, or the honeymoon phase. you took another step, and what felt like the blink of an eye you were standing at the altar, san across from you. was he crying? how sweet. he couldn’t hold in his emotions, the happiness, the joy, the love, it was overwhelming. “this is perfect he thought.”

#choi san #san #choi san x reader #san x amab reader #m4m #san x reader

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clover-warriorcats-main · 8 months ago

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PART 2

PART 1

- Q -

Quailfeather (CotC)

Quailfeather (TBC)

Quailheart

Quailkit (WC)

Quick Water

Quickpaw

Quiet Rain

Quietkit

Quince

- R -

Rabbitear

Rabbitfur

Rabbitleap (SkC)

Rabbitleap (TC)

Rabbitstar

Rabbittail

Rage (Boar)

Raggedstar

Rain (AVoS)

Rain (DotC)

Rain That Passes Quickly

Rain That Rattles On Stones

Raincloud

Raindrop

Rainfall

Rainflower

Rainfur (SkC)

Rainfur (TC)

Rainleap

Rainsplash

Rainstorm

Rainswept Flower

Rainwhisker

Rapidkit

Rascal

Ratscar

Raven (AVoS)

Ravenpaw

Ravenstar

Ravenwing

Red (SD)

Red Claw

Redclaw

Redscar

Redstar

Redtail

Redthistle

Redwillow

Reed Tail

Reedclaw

Reedfeather

Reedshine (CotC)

Reedshine (MV)

Reedstar

Reedtail

Reedwhisker

Reena (KP)

Reena (Ro)

Ridgekit

Riga

Rileypool

Ripple Shine

Rippleclaw

Ripplestar

Rippletail (RC)

Rising Moon

Riverstar

Roach

Robinkit

Robinstar

Robinwing (RC)

Robinwing (SkC)

Robinwing (TC)

Robinwing (WC)

Rock

Rock Beneath Still Water

Rockfall

Rockshade

Rocky

Rook

Rooktail

Root

Rootspring

Rose (FQ)

Rose (TS)

Rosebush

Rosepetal

Rosetail

Rowanberry

Rowanclaw(star)

Rowanfur

Rowankit (ASC)

Rowanstar (CotC)

Rubblekit

Rubblepaw

Ruby

Rufus

Rumble

Running Fox

Running Horse

Runningbrook

Runningnose

Runningstorm

Runningwind

Rushpaw (BotC)

Rushtail (RC)

Rushtail (WC)

Rushtooth

Russetfur

Rust

Ryestalk

Ryewhisker

- S -

Sage (Lo)

Sagenose

Sagewhisker

Samwise (Dog)

Sandgorse

Sandstorm

Sandynose

Sasha

Scarlet

Scooby

Scorchfur

Scorchwind

Scourge

Scout

Scowl

Scrap

Scraps

Scree (Ro)

Scree Beneath Winter Sky

Screech Of Angry Owl

Scruff

Sedgecreek

Sedgestar

Sedgewhisker

Seedpaw

Seedpelt (FQ)

Seedpelt (MV)

Seedpelt (PC)

Seville

Shade Pelt

Shaded Moss

Shadepelt (AVoS)

Shadepelt (TPB)

Shadestar (Tiger)

Shadowsight

Shadowstar

Shannon

Shanty

Sharp Hail

Sharpclaw (SkC)

Sharptooth (Cougar)

Shattered Ice

Sheeptail

Sheer Path Beside Waterfall

Shell Claw

Shellfur

Shellheart

Shimmerpelt (BrS)

Shimmerpelt (CP)

Shine

Shiningheart

Shivering Rose

Shnuky

Shorty

Shredtail

Shrewclaw

Shrewfoot

Shrewpaw (TC)

Shrewtooth

Shy Fawn

Shyfrost

Shyheart

Silt

Silver

Silver Frost

Silver Stripe

Silverflame

Silverhawk

Silvermask

Silverpaw (BotC)

Silverpaw (TPB)

Silverstream

Skipper

Skyheart

Skystar

Skywatcher

Slant

Slash

Slate (DotC)

Slate (IH)

Slatefur

Slatepelt

Sleek Fur

Sleekwhisker

Slightfoot

Sloefur (RC)

Sloefur (ShC)

Smallear

Smallstar

Smoke

Smokefoot

Smokehaze

Smokepaw (SotC)

Smokepaw (TNP)

Smoketalon

Smoky

Smudge

Snail (Ro)

Snail (Sister)

Snail Shell

Snailpaw

Snake (DotC)

Snaketail (FQ)

Snaketail (PoT)

Snaketooth (RC)

Snaketooth (ShC)

Snapper

Snaptooth

Sneezecloud

Sniff

Snipe

Snipkit

Snookthorn

Snow (Sister)

Snow Falling On Stones

Snow Hare

Snow Tail

Snowbird

Snowbush

Snowdrop

Snowflake (KP)

Snowflake (Ro)

Snowfur

Snowkit (TPB)

Snowstar

Snowtuft

Snowy

Socks

Softpelt

Softwing

Sol

Songbird

Songleap

Soot

Sootfur

Sorrelshine

Sorrelstripe

Sorreltail

Sparkpelt

Sparrow (CotP)

Sparrow (Ro)

Sparrow (Sister)

Sparrowfeather (DF)

Sparrowfeather (StC)

Sparrowpelt (SkC)

Sparrowstar

Sparrowtail

Speckle

Specklepaw

Speckletail

Spider (Lo)

Spider (Sister)

Spider Paw

Spiderfoot

Spiderleg

Spiderpelt

Spiderstar

Spike (Dog)

Spikefur

Spiketail

Spireclaw

Spiresight

Splash (KP)

Splash When Fish Leaps

Splashfoot

Splashheart

Splashkit (CP)

Splashnose

Splashpaw (TNP)

Splashtail

Splinter

Spotfur

Spotted Fur

Spottedleaf

Spottedpaw (ShC)

Spottedpelt

Spring Claw

Squirrel (CotP)

Squirrel (Sister)

Squirrelfur

Squirrelstar

Squirrelwhisker

Stagleap (TC)

Stagleap (WC)

Stalk Purr

Star Flower

Star That Shines On Water

Starlingfeather

Starlingwing

Stemleaf

Stempaw (ASC)

Stick

Stoat

Stoatfur (ShC)

Stoatfur (SkC)

Stone (DotC)

Stone (HJ)

Stone (Sister)

Stone Song (DotC)

Stone Song (PoT)

Stoneclaw

Stonefur

Stonepelt

Stonestar

Stonestream

Stonetooth

Stonewing

Storkkit

Storm (Ro)

Storm Clouds At Dusk

Storm Pelt

Stormcloud

Stormfur

Stormheart

Stormtail

Streak

Stream

Streamkit

Stretch Blink

Strike Slash

Strikestone

Stripekit

Stripes

Stripestar

Strong Pounce

Stumpytail

Sun Shadow

Sunbeam

Sunfish

Sunflower

Sunnypelt

Sunnytail

Sunpelt (Lion)

Sunpelt (SkC)

Sunrise (Sister)

Sunshine

Sunspots

Sunstar

Sunstrike

Susan

Suzy

Swallow

Swallowflight

Swallowtail (RC)

Swallowtail (WC)

Swampkit

Swankit

Sweetbriar

Sweetpaw

Sweetums

Swift (DotC)

Swift Minnow

Swiftbreeze

Swiftflight

Swiftfoot

Swiftpaw (TPB)

Swiftstar (Leopard)

Swiftwing

Swoop Of Chestnut Hawk

- T -

Tadpole

Tallpoppy

Tallstar

Talon Of Swooping Eagle

Talonpaw

Talonstar

Tangle

Tangleburr

Tanglepaw (RC)

Tanglewhisker

Tansy

Tansypaw (SkC)

Tawnyfur

Tawnypelt

Tawnyspots

Taylor

Teller Of The Pointed Stones (OotS)

Teller Of The Pointed Stones (TNP)

Tempest

Tess

Thistle (Ro)

Thistle (TC)

Thistleclaw

Thistleheart

Thistlepaw (CotC)

Thistlepaw (TNP)

Thistletail

Thorn (SkC)

Thorn That Grows In Cleft

Thornclaw

Thorntooth (Tiger)

Thrushpelt (TC)

Thrushpelt (WC)

Thrushtalon

Thrushwing

Thunderstar

Tiger Tail

Tigerstar (AVoS)

Tigerstar (TPB)

Timberfur

Tiny Branch

Tinycloud

Toad (Ro)

Toadfoot

Toadskip

Toadstep

Tom (ES)

Tom-Tom

Tommy

Tornear

Tree

Trout Fur

Troutclaw

Troutkit

Troutstar

Troutstream

Tulipkit

Tumble Leap

Tumblekit

Tuna

Turtle Tail

Turtlecrawl

Turtlekit (ShC)

Twig

Twigbranch

Twigtail

Twist

Twisted Branch

Tyr

- V -

Velvet (AVoS)

Velvet (SD)

Victor

Vinestar

Vinetail

Violet

Violet Dawn

Violetshine

Vixenleap

Voleclaw

Volestar

Voletooth

Volewhisper

- W -

Wafflepaw

Wanderkit

Wasp

Wasptail

Waspwhisker

Wavepaw

Weaselfur

Weaselkit

Weaselwhisker

Webfoot

Webkit

Webster

Wee Hen

Weedwhisker

Weevil

Wetfoot

Whiskers

Whisper Claw

Whispering Breeze

Whisperkit

Whistle

Whistlepaw

White Tail

Whiteberry

Whitebreeze

Whiteclaw

Whitefang

Whitestar

Whitestorm

Whitetail (StC)

Whitetail (WC)

Whitethroat

Whitewater

Whitewing

Whorlpelt

Wildfur

Wildkit

Willie

Willow Stream

Willow Tail

Willowbreeze

Willowclaw

Willowkit (CP)

Willownose

Willowpelt

Willowshine

Willowstar

Windflight

Windstar

Wing Shadow Over Water

Wish Stalk

Wishkit

Wolfheart

Wolfstep

Woodkit (RC)

Woodlouse

Woodsong

Woody

Woollytail

Wrenflight (SkC)

Wrenflight (WC)

- Y -

Yarrowleaf

Yellowfang

Yellowstar

Yew

Yew Tail

- Z -

Zack

Zeke

Zelda

Ziggy

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ofcourtfables · 10 months ago

Text

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍. 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏. welcome JENN, you have been accepted into ofcourtfables. please have your account in within the next 24 hours or you risk your roles and face claims. also take a moment to look over our checklist.

natasha liu bordizzo, cis female, she/her, 29 / 290 , high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems LINNEA ELARIE has finally made it to the capital, the GENERAL OF THE ARMIES from THE WINTER COURT is said to be PURPOSEFUL and is said to describe themselves with A FAINT SCENT OF DEWY SNOWDROPS CARRIED ON THE WIND LIKE A GHOST, A HYMN OF AN ARROW SINGING FROM ITS BOW, & A WILDFIRE SMILE ACCOMPANIED BY DECISIVE STEPS ON A WARPATH and with all of this in mind their FIERY nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time. ; *rhys' half-sibling wc

#mumu rp #fantasy rp #appless rp #oc rp #period rp #active rp

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judesmoonbeauty · 11 months ago

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A Briar Dream - Chapitre Trois

Please Note: This is a series and while chapter 3 may not be to everyone's tastes, it is a very important chapter to this series. Please read click her for the series master list. WC: 3,543 CW: Death, Human & Animal Experimentation, Mentions Of Assault, PTSD. Tags: Angst, Trauma, Fluff, Established Relationship, Series, Kisses, Science. Pronouns: She/Her Pronouns Summary: ...suppress her urge to vomit as the chirping song of the birds began to blur in the background, and meld into the...which means there’ll a lot of sacrifices needed for this experiment in order for you to record data, make adjustments to the formula and test...The milky twilight was finally caving into the darkness of night, and the soon the moon and stars appeared above them, with small fireflies starting to glow around them in the gazebo. He slowly lifted her head and kissed her chastely on the forehead. Dividers: @/natimiles

After the noisy breakfast, she made her way to Jude’s study, which smelled of sweet and smoky sandalwood, a scent that she’d previously been pining for. It’s comforting warmth enveloped her like a blanket as she sat down at the typewriter and began to work away. A few hours later it was nearly lunch time, so with all the contracts typed up, she stretched arms and decided to take a break.

Her neck had been throbbing all morning, not so much from the bruising left by the bastard who choked her, but from Jude’s bite marks. Gently touching her neck, she closed her eyes imagining how he held her the night before, but she just as she recalled that sweet memory, flashes of her assault flitted into her mind, moving her body to bristle at the thought. It made her feel grotesque, but before her thoughts could sink into the mire any further, the grand clock in Jude’s study chimed a beautiful melody.

Drawing in a sharp breath she decided that she’d take a walk in the garden for a bit of fresh air before joining the others for lunch, she thought it would help, but while in the garden admiring a beautiful patch of snowdrops, those revolting feelings began to overwhelm her again. Quickly walking towards a large tree, she leaned against it and tried to suppress her urge to vomit as the chirping song of the birds began to blur in the background, and meld into the clamor of the performance from the night before. The heat and stench from his breath could be felt against her skin as he demanded that she entertain him. Ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous.

She reminded herself that she was with Jude Jazza, the notorious President of Raven, he had a fearless and powerful reputation, and no matter what tragedy may have struck him in his life, he overcame it, and if he could do it then so could she. She had to because being strong and resilient was necessary if she wanted to stay by his side forever. Her thoughts raced and jumbled together as she began to break into a cold sweat, but she was determined not to be defeated. She had been in other terrible situations related to Crown missions before and she overcame those terrors. I will defeat this. Breathe. Just Breathe.

“Hey,” a large hand grabbed her trembling shoulder which caused her to jump and fall backwards.

“Ahh!” Tears that she’d been holding back - that she thought had dried up from the night before -began to pour down her cheeks like a fountain.

“Woah, calm down, little lady. It's just me. What’s the matter?”

“Roger?”

He observed her condition for a moment before offering his hand to help her up. Reaching for it her trembling hand hesitated mid-air, but Roger did not rush her, he waited patiently until she finally she managed to grasp it. After he pulled her to her feet she apologized to him.

“That's alright, but you're looking a bit peaky to me. Follow me inside.”

“Are you finished hunting?”

“Finished early. The snares that I laid out already had enough specimens in them, so I didn't even need to use my gun. Haha, it was easy labor.”

Wiping her tears away on her handkerchief, Roger’s easy-going manner calmed her, and in a way it felt like Jude was standing next to her. Was it because they’d known each other for so long? In the end, it didn’t really matter as long as those memories and feelings never came back again. Upon arriving at the basement, Roger puts the sack of game on his lab table, washed his hands and began to examine her reflexes, eyes, ears, nose and throat, being careful not to overlook anything, and once he completed that he placed more salve on her neck and re-bandaged it.

“You seemed sick earlier, do you feel dizzy, short of breath or nauseous?”

“No. I was just -”

Her tongue curled up making it difficult to put into words what happened to her, and in reality, she didn’t want to relive that memory by explaining it, but since he was being considerate of her she managed to admit that she was experiencing a difficult memory when her body starting reacting the way it did.

“Of last night? I heard what happened. It’s a good thing Jude was able to reach you before it went further.”

“But isn't it pathetic? Out of all the things I've seen and heard while here at Crown - the blood that's been shed and even spattered on me - that something so trivial like that could haunt me?”

He pondered her question carefully, one wrong word could make things worse and that’s not something he wanted to be responsible for.

“Roger?”

“This field of medicine isn’t in my expertise, but either way, remember this little lady: It's not pathetic to feel the way you feel. It's okay to feel grieved and afraid about what you’ve been through, so don't bottle those feelings up. Find a healthy way to express that anger, fear or sadness and don’t let the trash that made you feel that way control you anymore. Easier said than done, but not impossible.”

She listened to him intently, locked onto every word.

“You’re here and he isn’t, and just because one scenario didn’t bother you doesn’t mean another won’t. Don’t compare apples to oranges. And since your bound to that vindictive prick for the rest of your life, maybe think of a way to deal with future situations that you’ll face, because it’s not a matter of if, but when you face them.”

She mulled over his words for a moment, and though she still felt a numb inside, his words struck her heart, “You're right, thanks Roger. Um, so am I clear otherwise?”

“A clean bill of health. You're free to go.”

Hopping off the examination table she got curious at the bag of game that Roger had brought back to the castle, and when she asked him what they were for his amber eyes lit up. Beckoning her to another part of the room he opened the doors to a large hutch that was lined with several labeled shelves. The shelves were filled with the carcasses of dead woodland animals of various stages of decay. Rabbits, squirrels, foxes, birds……and oddly enough there wasn’t any foul odor. However, it wasn’t the prettiest sight, and covering her mouth she hekd back the urge to gag, wondering how this man could be the same man whom had just examined her and given her advice.

“I've been working on a regeneration serum! Aren't I brilliant?”

What she heard shocked her ears and she’d soon forgotten all about the grotesque in front of her as she looked at him with surprise. A large proud grin painted his face.

“A regen- what?! Is that even possible?”

He chuckled, “Hah! I started 13 months ago, check the dates.”

She focused solely on the labels with the dates marked on them starting from 13 months, 9 months and so on up until one month ago. This was both amazing and maddening, how was it even possible?

“Why-”

“Just a hobby, actually I was inspired by Elbert's taxidermy collection. It’s still in the early stages, but it has to do with cellular research. The first stage consists of being able to perfectly preserve a specimen that has died without any further decomposition. For example, if I were to shoot someone dead with my shotgun, I’d immediately introduce the serum into their bodies, and then make as many surgical repairs as I could prior to rigor mortis setting in. This would keep their bodies in their current state of decomposition and eliminate the need for the embalming process.”

“If that’s the first stage, then what's the next?” Her mind was so enraptured at his crazy idea that she was no longer dwelling on the pain of last night, and Roger couldn’t help but be pleased that someone wanted to listen to his research banter.

“While the first stage ensures preservation of the corpse, the tissues still can not regenerate. So, the next stage would be to reactivate the dead cells within the body, which will allow for tissue repair, at which point two things will be needed.”

She looked at him quizzically unsure as to what he meant by that.

“Ever read Mary Shelley?”

Her eyebrows arched high in surprise, “You don’t mean……electricity? Like Frankenstein?!”

“That's right. There was a brilliant doctor by the name of William Harvey who studied the body’s circulatory system - or blood flow - and how it stems from our hearts. In order for a dead heart to pump it needs a stimulus, and I like Shelley’s idea of using electricity. If I want to reactivate dead cells, I to produce blood, and to do that I need electricity.”

“Are those the two things you said you needed?”

“Not quite. Blood and electricity go hand in hand, but even if I can channel electricity into someone and revive them, they will still be suffering from the fatal wound they died from. That’s when the next step takes place. I will introduce a second serum into the specimen immediately as a continuous current of electricity flows into their body temporarily keeping them alive and giving the tissues time to regenerate, blood volume to expand etc.”

She stared at him for a moment trying to take it all in. Preserve the corpse so it doesn’t decay, reactivate cellular production by means of blood production. Blood production requires electricity, which you get by stimulating the heart with an external electrical source, but if the person still has a fatal wound and an enormous amount of blood loss, they’d need rapid tissue regrowth, otherwise, they’d just die again. So, he’ll keep them on a continuous electrical current as he administers the second serum to the body. The second serum…..

“Roger, have you developed the second serum?” There was an edge to her voice as she asked the question she already knew the answer to.

“No, but it will be based off the first serum’s formula. Still, I won’t know how to further develop the regeneration serum until I can test it on subjects whom I’ve successfully brought back. That's why I'm testing it on animals first since it's too risky for humans.”

“Their bodies would only be able to last so long even if you use electricity to get their heart beating again, which means there’ll a lot of sacrifices needed for this experiment in order for you to record data, make adjustments to the formula and test it over and over again.”

“That’s very true, and that’s why I’ve got Jude to rely on. He’s got plenty of extra bodies slaving away for him at the coal mine or are already being played with in his lab. First and foremost, is stage one and then I can move on to developing the correct type of conduit, and voltage strength needed.”

This man, he truly was egotistical, it was like he was playing God in such a situation, and it made her shiver.

“Oi! Don't drag her into your disgustin’ experiments, ya quack!”

At the sound of Jude's verbal lashing she quickly turned around and found him finishing up his cigarette. Her heart raced because she wanted nothing more than to be held by him, but she fought back the urge because she knew he probably wouldn’t like such a thing. Even though he was sweet when he wanted to be, Jude was still Jude, and she didn’t want to annoy him with her problems. Roger closed the hutch doors and pushed the bridge of his glasses up as he continued to explain the experiment to you while ignoring Jude.

“Like I said, it’s just a hobby I picked up a while ago, but I’ve made great strides. The first seven months weren't as successful as I would've liked them to be, but starting at the eighth month, the decay slowed dramatically, and I’m confident that this new batch of critters will be the key I need to start researching phase two. Just think, if I’m successful, then no matter how many times this guy gets injured, he can just swallow down the serum and he’ll be good as new.”

“Really? I wish you the best then, Roger!”

Letting out a hearty laugh Roger asked her if she wanted to be his assistant, but before she could respond, a hard yank on her shoulder pulled her back with Jude now standing in front of her, “She doesn't have the time since she works for me and Crown, so back off ya quack.”

“Fine, fine. Since you’re here, take off your shirt and sit on the table, I’ll give you an exam since you’re here. I've got things to do too besides worry over you both.”

Before Jude could even turn to nag at his lover, she was already saying her goodbyes, and telling Jude that she had completed all the work he’d given her.

“Oi!…Tch. Dammit.”

“You idiot. If you're so worried about her all you have to do is say so, isn’t that why you returned to the castle so early in the day?”

“Shuddup, who said I’m worried?” Roger brought a cold stethoscope to Jude's bare chest causing him to shiver violently at the cold metal.

“Ya could've warmed it up, ya asshole and do ya even need to use that with that hyper-hearin’ ya have?”

“I just felt like pissing you off, and it’d be better if you listened to her when the time comes.”

“Whatta ya mean by that, huh?”

“Figure it out yourself. Now, about that spare labor at your lab......”

Jude made is way back to his study, but found it empty other than the neatly stacked contracts sitting on his desk as she said they would be. Making his way to his room he didn’t find her either, nor her room, the common room, the dining room, nor the grounds. None of the servants seemed to know where she was either. In fact, her assigned maid was nowhere to be seen, which made him assume she left the castle. I told her to stay here.

He and Ellis had a mission tonight, but he wouldn’t be able to focus if he couldn’t find her before then. Swiftly lighting a cigarette, he walked menacingly towards the entrance of the castle, as he recalled the Crown guys telling Jude that she never even showed for lunch. Which means she left immediately after I returned. Jude wasn’t stupid, he knew something was wrong with her, she avoided him after all, and he could see tear stains on her cheeks, but that apparently wasn’t due to Roger. Jude had interrogated him after all, and the only answer Roger would give him was that Jude needed to speak to her about it.

“Shit, where are ya?”

Dusk was approaching and he needed to see her before he left. He needed to know that she was safe. The only place she could possibly go is back to her tiny home in town. No. That wasn’t her home anymore, Crown is her home. He is her home now, and if she so much as dared to leave him without killing him first, then he’d hunt her down and drag her back no matter how many times she ran away. Never again would he endure a loss and be left to deal with the brunt of it’s grief alone. As he exited the front entrance, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her walking towards the castle - towards him.

Relief and anger swarmed his body all at once and tossing his cigarette down he marched up to her, grabbed her shoulders and demanded to know where she’d been.

“The hell were ya? Huh? Do ya know how-”

Ceasing his yelling he pulled her into his arms squeezing her with all his might, but she couldn’t say anything to him in return. She just allowed him to be her solace in that moment, and after a time he grabbed her chin searching her face for answers.

“I’m….sorry I made you worry, Jude. But, I need to tell you something.”

After telling her servant who was following behind her to leave he took her to the gazebo in the garden and sat her down onto his lap. She looked dejected and was at a loss for words, so he asked her, “Where were you?”

“The servant’s quarters.”

“What? What were ya doin’ in a place like that?!”

Her expression became skewed as she tried to explain what was locked in her heart, but at the same time, she didn’t want to. She wanted to run away and not burden him, she wanted to be strong and fearless, but she also didn’t want the foundation of their relationship to have cracks in it from the very beginning either. She could tell that he was livid with her, but that was simply because he cared, and his the glow of his amethyst eyes were a reminder of how much he loved her.

“Jude, please listen to what I have to say……”

Proceeding to tell him everything from start to finish, he listened intently to her, his hand tightening little by little around her waist as the tears once again flowed from her eyes. He scowled for thinking that she’d be alright with the aftermath of the events by simply keeping her in the castle to rest, and keeping her mind busy with work. The afterglow of the night before and the sweet kisses from earlier that morning can only numb pain for so long, and he was a dumb ass for thinking otherwise. This is what Roger was talking about? He knew before I did? She feels like she isn’t qualified to be my side? Should she receive treatment? What can he do for her now?

Her arms link around his neck and she buries her face in the crook of his shoulder, as she whispered a thank you to him. Out of all the things she could say to him, he didn’t believe he deserved to be thanked. He wasn’t quick enough and she was hurt because of that, his guilt festered inside of him and he regretted killing that guy too quickly.

“Thank you, for listening. I feel better now. I don’t feel as dirty anymore and I-”

“Dirty?”

He placed his hand on her head and stroked it lovingly, he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. The milky twilight was finally caving into the darkness of night, and the soon the moon and stars appeared above them, with small fireflies starting to glow around them in the gazebo. He slowly lifted her head and kissed her chastely on the forehead.

“You’ll never be dirty to me. You - never run from me. Never let go. You’re more than deservin’ to be my woman, or do ya think I’m a man with bad taste?”

“No!”

“Then never think that way ‘bout yourself again, and talk to me first ‘bout your feelin’s or whatever - I’ll listen to ya.”

Her puffy eyes glistened at his gentle whisper and she couldn’t help but to kiss him back softly on his lips. This quiet moment felt like it could be shattered if even the wind blew too strongly, but nothing disturbed them as he cradled her in his arms. It wasn’t a natural thing for him to do, this was somewhat awkward and uncomfortable, but he was hopeless when she began to cry or felt pain that wasn’t inflicted by himself.

“Jude.”

“What?”

“I’m going to become stronger, you’ve protected so much, and I promise that one day, I will be strong enough to protect you too. I don’t want to always be like this. So, will you agree?”

“To what?”

“Let me learn how to fight.”

They locked eyes again and the fiery determination her eyes exuded excited him. It would be a good thing for her to learn how to use various weapons and basic self-defense since she always had a knack for landing into trouble anyways. The sad little princess was nowhere to be found anymore, but a rather fierce one was sitting in his lap. He smirked at her and after biting down on her bottom lip hard he answered her.

“Then, fight as hard as ya can for me princess, I look forward to ya keepin’ your promise.”

Biting her again, she protested in pain, but the two soon were lost deep in each other’s throats until Jude had to leave for his mission, and after waving him off she made her way to each of the Crown members to enlist their help with her training.

@ichigostellaglynn @mrslelouch @atelierquinn @sapphire-323

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"A Briar Dream" will have a Chapitre Quatre.

#writing #Jude Jazza #ikevil fanfic #Ikevil Jude #Ikevil fanfiction #ikemen villains fanfiction #jude jazza fluff #jude jazza fanfiction

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